


ego

by elfloversanonymous (asexuelf)



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Ableism, Danarius (Dragon Age) Being an Asshole, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dehumanization, Fantastic Racism, Guns, M/M, Master/Pet, Master/Slave, Racism, Rape, Slavery, Tevinter Culture and Customs, Unreliable Narrator, Violence, danarius and the terrible horrible no good very bad day, dont take him seriously hes a dumbass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 22:01:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21278423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asexuelf/pseuds/elfloversanonymous
Summary: From sunup 'til sundown, Danarius finds his patience tried by all those around him.





	ego

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wrote this as an exercise in humanizing danarius for my day 1 of nanowrimo. not in absolving or excusing or even explaining, just as a way of… writing him as a man as well as a cackling disney villain to test my skills. definitely a fun time and surprisingly cathartic as well. sorry for any typos or inconsistencies, it's rather difficult to find a beta for a fic like this in my circle of fellow survivors, so any mistakes are my own. i will, however, be blaming them on danarius, because fuck that guy.
> 
> a note: this fic does contain erotic content depicting a nonconsensual slave and his master, and i, as the author, consent to you finding this content arousing. [throws kink-fetti] now go forth without guilt, my friend, and enjoy this weird fic i spent too much time on! huzzah!

Danarius is having a nightmare.

The demon he has chained to himself likes to punish him when he falls into the Fade. It wants to take control of him instead, to flip the script and show him that his ownership over the creature is nothing, that Danarius' power is temporary. Stolen. Danarius is no longer a quivering boy in the Circle, however, young and afraid of his own potential, and knows better than that. He has grown into his power and knows well that the demon is under his command and his alone.

Still, the dream shakes him.

He's woken with a start, sweating far too much for the winter months, his chest feeling strange and weightless and lower than that-

He looks downward. Fenris has him in his mouth, as he is ought to do every morning when it is time to wake. His pet is holding his member deep in that tight throat and swallowing rhythmically, twisting his tongue along the underside.

Yes, this is much better. This is another dangerous thing he's chained under his command, but at least this one knows to suck his cock and obey.

A part of Danarius wants to give Fenris a rare punch, just wallop him across the head and leave him bloody, just to prove he's in control, that this is real, but this is what he's ordered the thing to do, so he spreads his legs and allows it. No point in punishing an order he's made - it would only confuse the poor thing. Elves aren't very bright at the end of the day, after all.

"Good dog," he says, and gentles the white hair tickling his thighs. Fenris hums in quiet happiness, well-trained out of hiding the contentment of pleasing his master. "Yes, that's my little wolf."

Anger still clings under his skin, however, even at the sight of his obedient masterpiece. So, he grabs Fenris by the hair and pushes that flat nose into his pubic hair, rolling them so Danarius is on top. Then he ruts, like the animal he made Leto into.

For his credit, Fenris doesn't properly gag, though Danarius can hear him struggling for air. Danarius is certain the elf will have a bruised nose the way he's banging his pelvis against Fenris' face, but all the better for it. They're going to a meeting with a couple of his associates today and Danarius needs those others to see his strength. Needs them to see his power.

An unhelpful part of him knows that's the effect of the Pride demon, but he's too proud to do anything but accept it.

It's only when Danarius releases in Fenris' throat that the slave finally gags, coughing and spewing seed all over the bedspread. Fear fills those large green eyes and Danarius sighs, patting his slippery cheek. 

"Lick it up, little wolf," he says. "You'll be attending me in the bath today."

Fenris laps at the bedspread diligently, but Danarius is in too foul a mood already and doesn't stay to watch. He stretches his arms above his head, feels his back creak and groan, takes a moment to mourn his youth, then turns to the bath chambers. There are slaves there already, standing by a steaming hot bath and staring at the ground. He lifts the shift of one of them, smiling at the way the elf freezes - and at the sight of the member underneath. Soft and small, almost cute. He wonders what it looks like when the boy is less frightened - or more frightened.

Danarius loves Fenris, but he'll admit he misses his old schoolboy dalliances. Perhaps he ought to order this one into the hot pool and bend him over the edge of the bath, just for old times sake, and see if he can still make them cry like he used to.

But then Fenris is crawling through the door on hands and knees, face messy and eyes bright, and Danarius turns that from his mind. 

"Here, pet," he says. The slaves around him grow nervous - he didn't order them to make a bath for Fenris, after all, and they can sense his sour mood. "You'll be bathing with me, hm? We can't have you stinking up the tower today."

The slaves relax and it makes Danarius angry again. Fenris only flinches when he believes he's disappointed Danarius because he _ loves _ his master. These slaves don't love him. They fear him. They think they can control him by these slight manipulations, by guessing what he desires.

Danarius knows this is the demon again, manipulating him. _ You are not in control _. But he orders the male slave into the bath anyways. That will show them.

He is an old man, and thus must use his hands more than his cock, but the boy does indeed cry. And not even because he was ordered to.

Afterwards, when they are both finally clean, Fenris looks a little pouty. It elevates Danarius' mood greatly. To think, this terrifying monstrocity, built with lyrium and sinew, dressed in silver and spikes, carrying a greatsword of wretched sharpness, is pouting because his master fucked some nameless slave instead of himself. It's enough to make Danarius laugh.

He waits for the elf's hair to dry before pulling it up to match his own, smoothing fly-aways out of that sweet face before leaning forward for a kiss. Fenris leans forward into it, like he can't help himself - and isn't that why Danarius loves him? Was it not the hard-eyed gaze and searching stare of Leto that beckoned him to break this creature to begin with?

But unlike Leto, Fenris has no expectations. He only loves.

Danarius feels the itch under his skin subside. Here, his thumbs on the cheeks of his greatest creation, Danarius feels at peace. Those wide green eyes gaze up at him like a Chantry Father looks at the heavens in search of his Maker.

"I adore you," he says. Fenris melts into his hands like heated caramel. Perfect submission.

"I love you," the elf whispers. "I love you, Master!"

Danarius laughs. "I know, pet. I love you, too."

Another kiss and they're off to the palanquin. The slaves that carry it are big brutes, which doesn't attract Danarius terribly, having always had a taste for more slender men, so he amuses himself on the trip by having Fenris do tricks. There isn't much room for him to roll over and none at all for him to fetch, but he can light his markings and bark and make up stories, which are all amusing enough. He often tells variations of their own tale, a powerful mage with a well-behaved wolf, and Danarius finds himself laughing through a story in which these characters travel to the moon.

"Which one?"

"Whichever one the wolf's Master likes best."

"Good answer, boy."

The trip isn't a long one, since it's just a day at the Circle in the next city, but Danarius is glad when it's finally over and he can step out of the palanquin. Fenris goes first, the shift from loving puppy to guard dog almost jarring, but Danarius follows, clipping a leash to Fenris' posture collar as he stretches his legs. It's a thick collar, wide and tall, worn in the hopes that Fenris' awful slouching will be taken care of.

So far it's done little on that front, but Fenris _ does _ look very good in it. Even the students that follow Magister Tilani will appreciate that.

"Come along," he yawns. Fenris follows.

It's not a proper Magisterium meeting so much as it is a handful of associates meeting for a political discussion, so Danarius is already bored out of his wits and he hasn't even entered the tower proper yet. Why they couldn't do this at someone's home was beyond him, but he guesses they're all afraid of being assassinated. Fools. One can be killed anywhere, whether in one's home or the home of another. The Circle is just another resting ground for brainless men.

Danarius turns to his pet as they walk. "Fenris, young men care more for their fear than they do for sense. Don't be like them." As if he has any choice.

But the elf nods gravely, like Danarius is a wise old sage and Fenris his pupil. Like this advice will save his life. "Yes, Master." Already, Danarius can see the gears in his head turning, as if he's just begun practicing being a sensible young man.

Danarius coughs to hide an undignified giggle and continues on, keeping the leash loose as they begin to pass more people. The leash is largely decorative, a pretty accessory to adorn his pet, to show the world both Fenris' submission and obedience. A show of Danarius' ability. It doesn't seem to mean much, however - they've only just left the door behind them and already students are passing by like they have better places to be. They don't spare he or Fenris so much as a fearful glance. 

"Don't today's youths know anything about respect?"

Like with all rhetorical questions, Fenris seems confused and conflicted. He steps closer to his master and pouts.

Already feeling a headache coming on, Danarius heaves a sigh and leads Fenris towards today's big foolish errand. Might as well get it over with, and then maybe once it's all behind them, he can use Fenris' sweet mouth again. It won't do much for a migraine, but one does say it's better for the health than whiskey. And Danarius could certainly do with a bit of whiskey.

Danarius makes his way through the familiar halls of the tower until he comes across the favored slave of one of his associates. He only remembers her for her yellow hair, rare as it is in Tevinter, and the thick scar under her chin. He isn't certain what kind of pussy this thing has that Proclus would settle for a scarred bed slave, but he supposes it gives her character. He prefers to have Fenris looking youthful and pristine, calling in a cosmetic healer when necessary, but he supposes all men have their own tastes.

"Slave girl," he says to her - Bunni, he thinks Proclus called her. The girl jumps, her ears twitching like the rabbits she is named for, and bows low. "Where is your master and his associate?"

She doesn't speak, just stares fearfully at his shoes and points in the direction of the eastern library. There are a couple of classrooms there, the ones that housed Necromancy and Force Magic courses in his youth if memory serves, as well as a small utility closet he used to drag boys into, but nowhere he can imagine his associates wanting to meet. How irritating. 

Danarius nearly reprimands her for her silence, would even slap her if he had Proclus' permission, when he remembers suddenly that she is mute.

"Ah, right. He does so like his broken toys, our Proclus, doesn't he?" He rolls his eyes and turns to Fenris. "Remember what I said about being sensible, Fenris? Don't be like Bunni here either."

Fenris nods very seriously. "Yes, Master. Never."

"Good boy. Now, girl, show me to your master. Take me there."

And thank the Maker, the thing does, bows, turns on its heel, and quickly shows him to the office he's meant to meet in. The room is in an entirely different place than the slave was pointing him to, of course, and Danarius is already drafting what he'll say to her master to convince him to punish her.

Slaves are revolting more and more, he's noticed, or just being downright bad at their function. He tries to share his methods with others, show his compatriots and companions alike how to make a good dog like Fenris, but no - nobody ever listens to Danarius! Danarius is crazy! Danarius is too cruel! Fools. When Bunni one day leads Proclus into a volcano, whether on purpose or on accident, Danarius won't be surprised.

It does set a dangerous precedent, however. Fenris is a good dog, but a beast will always be a beast, even when leashed. His nightmares are proof of that, if nothing else.

"If there is wine served, leave it to another slave-" Danarius turns to his pet and stops, catching the tight clench of Fenris' jaw, the lines under his eyes that mean anger. 

Immediately, he grabs Bunni before she can run, his nails digging into the soft flesh of her upper arm. "What is it?" he hisses into her pointed ear. "What have you done, bitch?"

But Bunni cannot speak, only cry, so he turns to his slave who can.

"Danger, Master. I can sense it." Even as Leto, he had a kind of intuition that awed Danarius - the kind that leads people to train in the arts of scrying. Now that he's been inlaid with lyrium, that intuition seems even stronger. "I will enter first, to protect you."[1]

A hand fists its way into Fenris' hair tightly and the wolf whines. "I will make the demands here, boy." He's being unfair - this is Fenris' function, to love and protect - but he can't risk insubordination. 

"Yes, Master."

"You will enter behind me-" Fenris' face takes on a look of horror. "And I will enter behind Bunni."

Now the girl looks even more afraid, shaking her head quickly, her yellow hair flailing about like mad. She cannot scream and, in Danarius' opinion, that is just about her only virtue. 

Fenris settles close behind with his Lethandrilis, careful of the sharp bite of his armor against Danarius' back, and brings his other arm up to dig his gauntlet into Bunni's free bicep. Together, they hold her still, keeping her in place to push her through the door.

On the other side, Proclus, is in the front, along with Seventis and Libanius, each holding a very expensive firearm. There are a handful of men behind them, some Danarius recognizes, some he does not, but they all hold only daggers or staves.

Some part of Danarius is flattered. They obviously spent a lot of coin on those new firearms just in hopes of killing him - and they are new, still shiny from disuse, and held incorrectly by all three men in different and equally ridiculous ways. Distantly, Danarius wonders if they know they have to load the bullets themselves or if they think the bullets are brought into this world by a _ mata _ and _ patus _firearm.

When Proclus sees Bunni, his eyes go wide and he lowers the gun immediately. With his stupid slack face, he looks more like a frightened bear than a man. "Danarius! Let her go!"

"Or what? You'll shoot her?" Danarius raises the hand that he used to swing open the door and cups it over Bunni's eye. Then he casts a small flame, just to hurt Proclus, just to further break his favorite toy, and delights in her struggling as her eye is immolated.

The smell of burnt flesh hits the air and Proclus flinches, but keeps his gun to the ground. Libanius, however, rolls his eyes and keeps his gun steady, pointing at Danarius' head.

Danarius always has related to him the most of their lot. Not an intelligent man, this Libanius, but moreso than some.

"Are we meant to spare a slave?" The man sneers. "Be so afraid for its life that we don't end yours, Danarius?"

"It's a meatshield, you buffoon."

Libanius scowl deepens. "You're the buffoon!" And then he shoots, and, shockingly, a bullet does in fact fly out of it. It thuds wetly into Bunni's torso and she writhes horribly, completely silent. 

Proclus cries out as if the bullet hit him instead, and is subsequently ignored, but also because, after Bunni is shot, everyone else has taken it upon themselves to attack.

Like battle always does to time, things seem to slow down and speed up all at once. Danarius ducks behind Bunni, shielding himself entirely behind her and casting a low shield to keep the bullets biting through her from piercing him. And Fenris goes to work.

Fenris puts out a pulse, sending all the men back into each other from the gust of force, and ghosts into the world between this and the Fade, bullets and dagger alike suddenly ineffective. And then he lunges forward, slicing through every man quicker than they can scream out for mercy.

The battle is over faster than it began. Danarius dumps Bunni's body over Proclus' severed legs and groin. It feels poetic, in a way, and Danarius allows himself a tired laugh as he picks through the carnage for the shiny firearms. At least he got one thing out of this endeavor, even if the engraving on Seventis' looks a bit cheaper than it's worth.

"Good boy," he says. He cannot yet see Fenris, but he can sense his pet standing behind him, the lyrium still hot and shining and calling out to his magic. "You did remarkably well, my little wolf. You've earned yourself a treat when we get home."

"Thank you, Master. You are gracious, Master." But Fenris sounds distracted, alarmed. More enemies? Couldn't be. "Are you unharmed, Master?"

Ah. Of course. "You... are the cutest young thing. Yes, my little wolf, I am more than fine, though I'm rather annoyed. And that gunfire did nothing for my headache."

Fenris surges forward just as Danarius stands to take his mouth in a kiss. "Oh, thank you, Maker. Maker, thank you." The kisses become licks, wide drags of a wolf's tongue, and Danarius pushes him away before he can slobber up his beard.

"That's quite enough of that, Fenris. Behave or you'll get no treat at all."

"Yes, Master." Fenris attempts to compose himself, but Danarius sees his eyes darting to check on his master, his movements anxious. It makes for a bad impression, but after that nonsense, Danarius finds he doesn't care. Let Fenris show his love and fear. 

Danarius will just get _ shot at _ anyways. Ugh. It's so hard to find good allies these days. Not for the first time, Danarius questions if he shouldn't take on another apprentice, fills the Magisterium with intelligent people before Tevinter truly goes to the dogs.

He won't be doing that today, however. No, after all this, he just wants to find the person in charge of this worthless tower, tell them about this stupid plot, and go home. Maybe he'll even skip his paperwork today, focus on a good book or Fenris' skin for a while instead. Yes, that sounds nice. Have an early lunch with his pet, lie in for a while. Thank the Maker that Hadriana is out of the city. He doesn't have the patience for teaching her today.

Eventually, one of the students recognizes him for who he is and bows low before offering to show him to the _ alta _ in charge at the moment. The Magister who runs this particular Circle is out on business, he explains, and apologizes for his inability to direct Danarius to him.

Danarius waves it off, even considers pulling the young man into one of the corners Danarius used to frequent, but thinks better of it. When they reach the _ alta _, he doesn't waste time with pleasantries, quickly letting her know that there are dead bodies in a room that appears to be her current office. Shame for her. 

"I apologize for the smell," he says politely. "Blood and gunfire is quite the heavy stench. I'd recommend a few slaves to air it out in a timely manner, not just one."

She thanks him and apologizes both before walking him out to his palanquin. She thanks him again for visiting and apologizes for the poor visit.

"Here," she says. Then she offers her slave Velencia. Danarius assures her he has no desire to take a female slave for a night, especially not this night, but she explains that it's not a lend out, but a gift.

Danarius is shocked, but he's not about to say no to fair compensation. If he doesn't keep the thing, he can sell it and use the money for something better. Face schooled carefully, he thanks her for her kindness, and has Velencia chained to one of the palanquin slaves so it can't run away while it follows behind them.

"Say goodbye, Fenris."

Fenris waves a bloody hand at the _ alta _ , who is very good at hiding her fear, before settling in beside Danarius in the palanquin. Then it's lifted and the _ alta _ is quickly out of sight, leaving only Danarius and his wolf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> r.i.p. bunni. we hardly knew ye.
> 
> [1] fenris cannot see the future. but in canon, he's often the one to point out danger and say he smells death, and i imagine he can likely feel blood magic (among other things) with those markings of his. danarius is just a bit superstitious here.
> 
> ALSO; my understanding here is that magisters run the circles, but in this fic, danarius isn't in control of a circle because of his involvements in seheron. maybe more info will come out about all that with the fenris comic coming out and some of the tevinter stuff coming out, but if it turns out this is wrong, then it can just be an au. what does canon know anyways?
> 
> thank you for reading! hopefully part 2 is soon, if not, then i hope you enjoyed.


End file.
